DOWN AROUND 
THE RIVER 

AN D OTHER POEMS 



PS / 




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JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 




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DOWN AROUND THE 
RIVER 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



WITH PICTURES BY 

WILL VAWTER 



INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 191 i, 

BY 

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



All Rights Reserved 



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BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



CCI.A295257 




DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 



NOON-TIME an' June-time, down around the 
river ! 
Have to furse with 'Lizey Ann — but lawzy ! I fergive 

her! 
Drives me off the place, an' says 'at all 'at she's a-wish- 

in'. 
Land o' gracious ! time'll come I'll git enough o' fishin' ! 
Little Dave, a-choppin' wood, never 'pears to notice; 
Don't know where she's hid his hat, er keerin' where 

his coat is, — 
Specalatin', more'n like, he hain't a-goin' to mind me, 
An' guessin' where, say twelve o'clock, a feller'd likely 

find me ! 



DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 



Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river ! 
Clean out o' sight o' home, an' skulkin' under kivver 
Of the sycamores, jack-oaks, an' swamp-ash an' el- 

lum — 
Idies all so jumbled up, you kin hardly tell 'em ! — 
Tired, you know, but lovin' it, an' smilin' jes' to think 

'at 
Any szveeter tiredness you'd fairly want to drink it ! 
Tired o' iishin' — tired o' fun — line out slack an' 

slacker — 
All you want in all the world's a little more tobacker ! 

Hungry, but a- hid in' it, er jes' a-not a-keerin : — 
King-fisher gittin' up an' skootin' out o' hearin' ; 
Snipes on the t'other side, where the County Ditch is, 
Wadin' up an' down the aidge like they'd rolled their 

britches ! 
Old turkle on the root kindo'-sorto' drappin' 
Intoo th' worter like he don't know how it happen ! 
Worter, shade an' all so mixed, don't know which 

you'd orter 
Say : th' worter in the shadder — shadder in the worter! 



DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 



Somebody hollerin' — 'way around the bend in 
Upper Fork — where yer eye kin jes' ketch the endin' 
Of the shiney wedge o' wake some muss-rat's a-makin' 
With that pesky nose o' his ! Then a sniff o' bacon, 
Corn-bred an' 'dock-greens— an' little Dave a-shinnin' 
'Crost the rocks an' mussel-shells, a-limpin' an' a-grin- 

nin'. 
With yer dinner fer ve, an' a blessin' from the eiver 
Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river! 




9 




ME AND MARY 

ALL my feelin's in the Spring 
Gits so blame contrary, 
I can't think of anything 

Only me and Mary ! 
"Me and Mary !" all the time, 
"Me and Mary !" like a rhyme, 
Keeps a-dingin' on till I'm 
Sicko' "Me and Mary!" 



10 



ME AND MARY 



"Me and Mary ! Ef us two 

Only was together — 
Playin' like we used to do 

In the Aprile weather!" 
All the night and all the day 
I keep wishin' thataway 
Till I'm gittin' old and gray 

Jes on "Me and Mary !" 

Muddy yit along the pike 
Sence the Winter's freezin', 

And the orchard's back'ard-like 
Bloomin' out this season ; 

Only heerd one bluebird yit — 

Nary robin ner tomtit; 

What's the how and why of it? 
'Spectit's "Me and Mary!" 

Me and Mary liked the birds — 

That is, Mary sorto' 
Liked 'em first, and afterwards, 

W'y, I thought Fd ort'o. 
And them birds — ef Mary stood 
Right here with me, like she should — 
They'd be singin', them birds would, 

All fer me and Mary. 

12 



ME AND MARY 



Birds er not, I'm hopin' some 
I can git to plowin' ! 

Ef the sun'll only come. 
And the Lord allowin'. 

Guess to-morry I'll turn iiij 

And git down to work ag'in; 

This here loaferin' won't win. 
Not f er me and Mary ! 



Fer a man that loves, like me, 

And's afeard to name it, 
Till some other feller, he 

Gits the girl — dad-shame-it ! 
Wet er dry, er clouds er sun — 
Winter gone er jes begun — 
Outdoor work fer me er none. 
No more "Me and Mary !" 




13 




A GLIMPSE OF PAN 



1 CAUGHT but a glimpse of him. Summer was here, 
And I strayed from the town and its dust and heat 
And walked in a wood, while the noon was near, 
Where the shadows were cool, and the atmosphere 

Was misty with fragrances stirred by my feet 
From surges of blossoms that billowed sheer 
O'er the grasses, green and sweet. 



H 



A GLIMPSE OF PAN 



And. I peered through a vista of leaning trees, 
Tressed with long tangles of vines that swept 

To' the face of a river, that answered these 

With vines in the wave like the vines in the breeze. 
Till the yearning lips of the ripples crept 

And kissed them, with quavering ecstasies, 
And gurgled and laughed and wept. 

And there, like a dream in a swoon, I swear 
I saw Pan lying, — his limbs in the dew 

And the shade, and his face in the dazzle and glare 

Of the glad sunshine; while everywhere. 
Over, across, and around him blew 

Filmy d'ragonflies hither and there, 

And little white butterflies, two and two, 
In eddies of odorous air. 




15 




THE CIRCUS PARADE 



THE Circus! — The Circus! — The throb of the 
drums, 
And the blare of the horns, as the Band-wagon comes ; 
The clash and the clang of the cymbals that beat. 
As the glittering pageant winds down the long street! 

In the Circus parade there is glory clean down 
From the first spangled horse to the mule of the Clown, 
With the gleam and the glint and the glamour and 

glare 
Of the days of enchantment all glimmering there! 



i6 



THE CIRCUS PARADE 



And there are the banners of silvery fold 
Caressing the winds with their fringes of gold; 
And their high-lifted standards, with spear-tips aglow, 
And the helmeted knights that go riding below. 

There's the Chariot, wrought of some marvelous shell 
The Sea gave to Neptune, first washing it well 
With its fabulous waters of gold, till it gleams 
Like the galleon rare of an Argonaut's dreams. 

And the Elephant, too, (with his undulant stride 
That rocks the high throne of a king in his pride). 
That in jungles of India shook from his flanks 
The tigers that leapt from the Jujubee-banks. 

Here's the long, ever-changing, mysterious line 
Of the Cages, with hints of their glories divine 
From the barred little windows, cut high in the rear, 
Where the close-hidden animals' noses appear. 

Here's the Pyramid-car, with its splendor and flash, 
And the Goddess on high, in a hot-scarlet sash 
And a pen-wiper skirt ! — O, the. rarest of sights 
Is this "Queen of the Air" in cerulean tights ! 



i8 



THE CIRCUS PARADE 



Then the far-away clash of the cymbals, and then 
The swoon of the tune ere it wakens again 
With the capering tones of the gallant cornet 
That go dancing away in a mad minuet. 

The Circus ! — The Circus ! — The throb of the drums, 
And the blare of the horns, as the Band-wagon comes ; 
The clash and the clang of the cymbals that beat, 
As the glittering pageant winds down the long street. 




19 




THE MUSKINGUM VALLEY 



THE Muskingum Valley ! — How longin' the gaze 
A feller throws back on its long summer-days, 
When the smiles of its blossoms and my smiles wuz 

one- 
And-the-same, from the rise to the set o' the sun : 
Wher' the hills sloped as soft as the dawn down to 

noon, 
And the river run by like an old) fiddle-tune. 
And the hours glided past as the bubbles 'ud glide, 
All so loaferin'-like, 'long the path o' the tide. 

In the Muskingum Valley — it 'peared like the skies 
Looked lovin' on me as my own mother's eyes. 
While the laughin'-sad song of the stream seemed to be 
Like a lullaby angels was wastin' on me — 



20 



r- 





THE MUSKINGUM VALLEY 



Tel, swimmin' the air, like the gossamer's thread, 
'Twixt the blue underneath and the blue overhead. 
My thoughts went a-stray in that so-to-speak realm 
Wher' Sleep bared her breast as a piller fer them. 

In the Muskingum Valley, though far, far a-way, 
I know that the winter is bleak there to-day — 
No bloom ner perfume on the brambles er trees — 
Wher' the buds used to bloom, now the icicles freeze. — 
That the grass is all hid 'long the side of the road 
Wher' the deep snow has drifted and shifted and 

blowed — 
And I fed in my life the same changes is there, — - 
The frost in my heart, and the snow in my hair. 

But, Muskingum Valley ! my memory sees 

Not the white on the ground, but the green in the 

trees — 
Not the froze'-over gorge, but the current, as clear 
And warm as the drop that has jes trickled here; 
Not the choked-up ravine, and the hills topped with 

snow, 
But the grass and the blossoms I knowed long ago 
When my little bare feet wundered down wher' the 

stream 
In the Muskingum Valley flowed on like a dream. 

22 . 




THE TREE-TOAD 



SCUR'OUS-LIKE," said the tree-toad, 
"I've twittered fer rain all day ; 
And I got up soon, 
And hollered tel noon — 
But the sun, hit blazed away, 

Tel I jest dumb down in a crawfish-hole, 
Weary at hart, and sick at soul ! 

^Dozed away ter an hour, 
And I tackled the thing agin : 

And I sung, and sung, 

Tel I knowed my lung 
Was jest about give in; 

And then, thinks I, ef hit don't rain now, 

They's nothin' in singin', anyhow ! 



23 



THE TREE-TOAD 



**Onc't in a while some farmer 
Would come a-drivin' past ; 

And he'd hear my cry, 

And stop and sigh — 
Tel I jest laid back, at last, 

And I hollered rain tel I thought my th'oat 

Would bust wide open at ever' note ! 

"But I fetched her !— O, I fetched her — 
'Cause a little while ago. 

As I kindo' set. 

With one eye shet. 
And a-singin' soft and low, 

A voice drapped down on my fevered brain, 

A-sayin', — 'Ef you'll jest hush Fll rain!' " 




24 




IN SWIMMING-TIME 



CLOUDS above, as white as wool, 
Drifting over skies as blue 
As the eyes of beautiful 

Children when they smile at you : 
Groves of maple, elm and beech, 

With the sunshine sifted through 
Branches, mingling each with each, 
Dim with shade and bright with dew. 

Stripling trees, and poplars hoar, 
Hickory and sycamore. 
And the drowsy dogwood, bowed 
Where the ripples laugh aloud. 
And the crooning creek is stirred 

To a gaiety that now 
Mates the warble of the bird. 

Teetering on the hazel-bough. 



25 



IN SWIMMING-TIME 



Grasses long and fine and fair 

As your schoolboy-sweetheart's hair 

Backward stroked and twirled and twined 

By the fingers of the wind : 

Vines and mosses interlinked 

Down dark aisles and deep ravines, 
Where the stream runs, willow-brinked, 

Round a bend where some one leans, 
Faint, and vague, and indistinct 

As the like-reflected thing 

In the current shimmering. 

Childish voices, further on. 
Where the truant stream has gone, 
Vex the echoes of the wood 
Till no word is understood — 
Save that we are well aware 
Happiness is hiding there : — 
There, in leafy coverts, nude 

Little bodies poise and leap, 
Spattering the solitude 
And the silence, everywhere — 

Mimic monsters of the deep ! — 



26 



IN SWIMMING-TIME 



Wallowing in sandy shoals — 
Plunging headlong out of sight, 
And, with spurtings of delight, 

Clutching hands, and slippery soles, 
Climbing up the treacherous steep, 

Over which the spring-board spurns 

Each again as he returns ! 

Ah ! the glorious carnival ! 

Purple lips — and chattering teeth- 
Eyes that burn — But, in beneath, 

Every care beyond recall — 
Every task forgotten quite — ■ 
And again in dreams at night, 

Dropping, drifting through it all ! 



28 






JUNE 

O QUEENLY month of indolent repose! 
I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume, 
As in thy downy lap of clover-bloom 
I nestle like a drowsy child and doze 
The lazy hours away. The zephyr throws 
The shifting shuttle of the Summer's loom 
And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom 
Before thy listless feet. The lily blows 
A bugle-call of fragrance o'er the glade ; 
And, wheeling into ranks, with plume and 
spear, 
Thy harvest-armies gather on parade ; 

While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear, 
A voice calls out of alien lands of shade : — 
All hail the Peerless Goddess of the Year ! 



29 



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